Paint the Wall Red
by coritos
Summary: It's hard hiding the skeletons in the closet, especially when the collection keeps growing.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **For Ashida.

This story is... different. Whether that's turns out to be a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen, but I feel obligated to attach a warning because of the content. This is a serial killer AU (yes, that does mean Asami and Akihito are going to kill people). If that makes you uncomfortable or triggers you in any way, it's probably best not to read. I will warn you in the notes when violence appears in the chapters.

I don't own Finder Series.

* * *

><p>"Have dinner with me." <p>

I jump and drop a can of boiled radishes on the floor. That voice. That infuriating mixture of confidence and cockiness. The distinct lack of asking for my consent to have dinner with him. There's only one person who could have said that. "Asami..." The same man that has been pestering me for the past five days. Guess my hopes that he would finally give up after I cussed him out yesterday were in vain.

I curse and look up at him. Just like I thought, there's that annoying smirk on his face. Typical.

I sigh and bend down to grab the canned radishes so I can scan the stupid thing. Store protocol states that when a product hits the floor, an attendant should get a new product to replace it, but I highly doubt he really cares. Well, more like I don't care if he cares. I don't think he actually eats this shit anyway. I ring up the can and toss it on top of the bread I already scanned in the grocery bag, just to spite him. The bastard laughs. I regret not throwing the can at his face instead.

I keep scanning and try to ignore his presence, but I can feel him staring at me. I peek at him. He's smiling. His face looks like it's about to splinter apart from how unnatural that smile looks though. He must not smile a lot. At least, I hope he doesn't. It's super creepy. "I'll pick you up tonight when you get off work," he says.

Normally, I would argue with him for assuming I would willingly go anywhere with him, but honestly, I don't have the energy to deal with this today. I only got three hours of sleep last night because my neighbors are loud as fuck. I'm currently working a ten hour shift at this shitty market. My feet hurt. My back is killing me. It's not worth the hassle right now. I just sigh and reach for the next item to scan. "Why?"

Asami frowns and raises his eyebrow in that way that makes me feel like he's assessing my intelligence. My fingers tighten around a package of crackers. It really pisses me off when he does that. He asks, "Why not?"

There were a lot of reasons "why not". Because I hate him. Because he's obviously just looking for a piece of ass. Because he's a complete mystery and he seems dangerous and that excites me more than I want to admit. Instead, I go with "Because we're strangers, and I'd rather keep it that way."

He leans his hip against the counter and puts his hand in his pocket. I want to smack him for trying to get cozy in front of my cash register. He tilts his head towards me and says smugly, "You and I both know that you're not content with us just being strangers, Akihito."

I stop in the middle of scanning the crackers. Did this bastard just use my name to mock me? If he really thinks he can win me over talking to me like that, well, I've got news for him: I will never let anyone belittle me without biting back. I glare at him and spit out, "I am perfectly content without you in my life."

I'm seriously a second away from chucking the bar code scanner in my hand at his fat head when he grabs my hand. I flinch and end up crushing the crackers in my other hand. Well, whatever. They're not my crackers. If he complains about them, then he can walk his merry little ass back down aisle three and grab a new package himself because I sure as hell won't.

He leans over the counter, as if he wasn't already invading my personal space enough with this awkward death-grip hand-holding thing. It hurts, and I'm slightly paranoid that he might break my hand. I really want him to stop touching me now, especially since he keeps giving me a weird look. It's almost like a cat's when it's playing with its prey. It sends a chill down my spine. I'm tempted to scream for help. I'm also tempted to pounce on him right here at checkout 17. It's a mortifying moment for me. He looks amused though, and he asks, "Are you really?"

And whatever internal crisis I was having instantly dies with that question. I give him my best deadpan and use my scanner to flash him in his eyes. "Stop asking me weird questions. You want me to ring you up or not?"

He squints and lets go of my hand. For some reason that bothers me. Not as much as his stupid face bothers me though.

The lady behind Asami in line clears her throat impatiently. I resist the urge to turn my head and tell her off. Barely. But I couldn't suppress the eye roll. I'll probably get in trouble with the supervisor about my attitude later. She seems like the type to complain to a manager.

I look down and scan the broken crackers that are still in my hand. I take immense joy in the fact that his crackers are completely destroyed. It's deeply satisfying to know that crumbs will fall all over his designer suit when he opens the package later. With a shit-eating grin, I drop the crackers in the grocery bag and say, "I'm not going to have dinner with you, and I'm not going to let you fuck me, so you can go somewhere else to do your shopping now."

He doesn't respond, and I'm a little scared that he may have taken that as a challenge.

I finish ringing up his groceries. He pays with cash. I glare and snatch the money from his hand. It's a huge bill that nearly robs my drawer of small change. He does this every time I see him, always with a grin as he says "Sorry, this is the smallest bill I have", which is total bullshit because I can see the other bills in his wallet. I know he does this to piss me off. I try not to rise to the bait, but it's hard since I'm using up all my self-control on not cussing out the lady for tapping her nails on the counter. I shove his change into his hand without saying anything and turn to the conveyor belt. Before he even has the chance to pocket the money, I grab a bag of rice from the belt and start ringing up the snobby lady. She is muttering about my shitty customer service. I ignore her.

Asami doesn't move. I don't know if he's smirking or not because I'm not looking at his face, but I would bet money that he is. After a few moments, he finally takes the hint to leave, and says, "I'll see you tonight." And then he walks away without even taking his groceries.

I glare at the bags. I knew there was no way he actually ate canned boiled radishes.


	2. Chapter 2

I get off work ten minutes late, because that lady complained to the manager, just like I knew she would. My five years spent dwelling in Retail Hell has forced me to develop an eye for picking them out of a crowd. Fortunately, Pat is a cool guy, so he only spends two minutes lecturing me about the importance of good behavior. After that, we stuff his jacket in the crack under the door and spend the next eight minutes lighting up a joint in the back office while he makes crude jokes about the girls on the store security footage.

It's a good time. We're laughing and my head is buzzing. He leans in toward me. Usually that would make me uncomfortable, but I'm so high from the weed. I decide to allow it. But then he starts sniffing my hair, and I have to draw the line there. There's my cue to head home. So long, Pat, you creepy, hair-sniffing fuck.

I get up from my seat, tell Pat that I'll see him later, and kick his coat away from the door so I can get out of the office. He bitches about that, but I'm already half-way to the front entrance so I just pretend that I can't hear him.

And, of course, the very first thing I see when I step outside the store is Asami. He's leaning against his car, looking suave as usual, smoking a cigarette like it's the cure for cancer. And he's parked in the fire lane. Because, apparently, laws don't apply to him.

"You're late," he says, and I can't help but notice that he's using that patronizing tone parents use when they speak at their bratty teenagers.

My eye twitches, but I ignore him and look at the car instead. It's a fucking BMW. I scoff and wonder who actually trusts Asami enough to lend him their vehicle for the night because there's no way a guy who can afford to own a BMW and pay for the gas to drive the damn thing around would waste his precious time annoying me, a humble grocery store cashier barely surviving on minimum wage, on a daily basis. It just doesn't make any sense at all.

I cross my arms and look down the road so Asami can't see my face, because I'd rather bite off my own tongue than show him that the car actually impresses me a little bit. After a short awkward silence, I open my idiot mouth and say, "You didn't take your groceries when you left."

He doesn't respond though. I turn to look at him so I can see his reaction, but he's looking away and taking a drag on his cigarette. For some reason, the lack of emotion frustrates me. Well, two can play at this game, asshole.

"I gave the bags to my manager. Told him it was a donation for the food drive. He asked me what moron would buy perishable foods for a food drive though. I told him you were definitely a moron."

Asami is looking at me now, his face as stoic as ever. That reaction doesn't satisfy me, so I decide to push him more. "I hope you haven't spent all your money on this car. It would be really lame if you weren't able to eat for the rest of the month because you over-drafted your bank account. Assuming you even have a bank account, of course." I say this, certain that it will piss him off. Experience has taught me that insulting a suit's finances is the surefire way to rile him up.

I should've known that Asami is different though, since he just laughs instead. Well, I guess I should be fortunate that at least it's a reaction, even if it's the exact opposite of the one I wanted.

But as soon as Asami's laughter stops, he snaps and his eyes narrow, and I swear, the icy glare he's giving me chills the air around us by a couple degrees. "If you're so concerned about me eating enough, then cut out this pointless talking and get in the car so we can eat dinner," he says, with the usual humor in his voice gone.

Honestly, this man has got to be the most annoying person I've ever met. As if I'd let him bully me into a date. I take orders from no one: pushy, angry stalkers included. "Look. I told you earlier that I wasn't going to have dinner with you-"

"And I'm telling you that I'm taking you to dinner anyway," he cuts me off with a loud growl.

I flinch. He's never raised his voice at me before, and I've said a lot of awful shit to him. Trust me when I say a lot. He normally just laughs it off and snarks right back. But the atmosphere around Asami right now is scary. I should get the hell away. I should go back into the market and wait for him to leave and have someone walk with me to my apartment, just to be on the safe side. That dangerous vibe emanating from Asami that I'm usually attracted to isn't appealing at the moment.

He stares at me for a moment with uncharacteristic straining, wide eyes before closing them and sighing. He pushes away from the car, and I immediately raise my fists. If he's coming at me, then I'm going to make it known that I'm not a weakling. I won't go down without a fight.

He quirks an eyebrow, but dismisses my actions and opens the car door. He says, "Get in. I made a reservation." He pauses and adds with his trademark smirk, "I'll pay for your dinner, of course." As if that will actually make me change my mind or something!

Any fear I was feeling before takes a backseat to the indignation that rises inside me, and I roll my eyes as dramatically as possible so I can get the point across that he's being utterly ridiculous. Does he really think that I will bend to his will, like, 'Oh gee, I better go since he made a reservation and he's going to pay for me and everything. It's not like he just yelled at me with that scary face of his or is demanding me to go with him like a hostage or anything!' Seriously, the nerve of this guy.

I snort and, being the sassy person I am, I say, "Are you going to offer me free candy next? I'm not getting in the car with you. The answer is no. N-O. NO. Stop living in denial and get it through your big head already."

He looks a little pissed now. Well, good. Maybe he's finally realized that I'm a fortress he can't penetrate and he'll stop pestering me for good. I spin around and start walking to the market entrance so I can wait for him to drive away.

When I reach for the handle, I hear him sigh, and despite common sense telling me not to, I listen to him when he says, "Fine. Okay. I won't force you to go with me. I guess I'll just have to ask that boy standing on the corner over there to be my date then. He's pretty cute, don't you think?"

And like a fucking dumb-ass, I end up getting in the car with him. If I was alone right now, I would bang my head against the window just from the sheer stupidity of my actions. I don't even want to acknowledge the fact that I actually feel a little jealous that he even suggested going on a date with that other guy. Honestly, it's not like that guy is cute at all, anyway. A total butter-face. And he is wearing windbreaker pants, for fuck's sake. Asami really needs to get his eyes checked if he honestly thinks that scab is even marginally attractive.

Why am I even concern about what Asami finds attractive anyway? It's not like I care about Asami at all. He's just a strange customer that pesters me constantly and occasionally makes passes at me. Nothing more. I'm just here for the free food. That's it.

I sneak a look over at Asami. He seems calm now, and he isn't giving off that scary vibe from earlier, which makes me feel a little less anxious about my choice to get in the car. Actually, as much as I hate to admit it, he looks really good right now, even with that stupid smirk I normally hate plastered on his face. I blink and quickly turn away to glare out the window, because I am not mooning over this bastard. Fuck that.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing I see when we walk into the restaurant is a stunning water fountain, and that's when I realize I've made a grave mistake. This restaurant is seriously extravagant. Almost annoyingly so. Complete with tables filled with socialites, pressed tablecloths, and tiny appetizers. And I'm still wearing my work clothes...

I regret not changing into that suit Asami threw at me in the car. Though in my defense, it's really all Asami's fault that this happened. He's the perverted bastard who refused to get out of the car to let me dress, and there's no way in hell I was going to take my clothes off in front of him, especially with the way he keeps observing me like a slab of meat. No thanks, I'll pass on that particular form of torture.

I just wish the satisfaction of shoving that suit right back in his face was worth the humiliation I feel right now. Do these assholes really need to sneer at me? Can't they just let me walk to the damn table in peace?

And of course Asami notices my discomfort. He leans down and whispers in my ear, "If I had known you would get this many stares, I would've made you dress in something less flashy. Of course, I can't blame them. You look so ravishing in that apron. That name tag is a nice touch, too."

I push him away fiercely, and quickly take my name tag off so I can shove it in my pocket. What a fucking asshole.

Asami chuckles lowly like he expected me to react like that, and the sound makes my eye twitch.

This bastard's totally getting off at my expense and that doesn't make for an enjoyable non-date. This is exactly why I didn't want to have this stupid dinner with him in the first place. This night is already awkward enough, and I'm sure it'll only get worse from here, but I guess I only have myself to blame for getting into this mess, for getting high with my manager, for agreeing to get into the car with him in the first place. If I was actually thinking at full capacity, there's no way I would've gone along with this. No way at all.

I comfort myself with the thought that, even though I'm forced to deal with Asami's company for the next few hours, I'll be compensated a free meal, which I'm looking forward to since the munchies are definitely starting to set in now. Unfortunately, I highly doubt this restaurant serves the brand of ramen I'm craving at the moment.

The host leads us to a booth secluded from the other patrons in the restaurant. The lighting and the table settings are nice. Too romantic for my personal taste, but it's still good, if you're into that sort of super intimidating atmosphere these places tend to exude. Asami blends into the environment of the restaurant seamlessly. The self-satisfied smile on his lips and infuriating charisma just ooze arrogance, which completely compliments the luxurious decor of our surroundings. I, on the other hand, feel so ridiculously lame, like I'm at a school dance without a date, wearing that embarrassingly hideous suit my dad keeps in his closet 'just in case I finally wise up to the ways of the corporate world and admit that I need a suit'.

Why the hell did this bastard bring me here? To taunt me and flaunt his lordly wealth in my impoverished, peasant face? I wouldn't put it past him.

"That's a pretty intense glare you're giving me, Akihito," Asami says, clearly amused. See, I knew mocking me was the reason he made reservations here.

Before I'm able to snap at him, he continues, "You can order anything you want. I assure you, my funds are inexhaustible."

I just stare at him uncertainly for a moment before shrugging a shoulder and opening the menu in front of me. I'm not one to argue if he insists, but he should prepare himself for the massive hit his wallet is about to take.

There aren't any prices listed on the menu, which reinforces my initial belief that everything here must be ridiculously expensive. It shouldn't bother me since I'm dining on Asami's dime tonight, but I can't help the conditioned surge of panic I feel when I think about the possible price of a single entree in this place. Honestly, I don't see the point in forking out all this money for a single meal. I could probably feast like a king for a week at home and still have cash left over to wipe my ass with for the same amount of money Asami will spend on this dinner. It boggles my mind how anyone could spend so much in one go without a second thought when I can barely part with a single note in my pocket to buy rice so I don't starve for the week. Just another reason that illustrates why Asami and I are not compatible in any way, shape, or form.

The waiter returns to our table, and I end up ordering some fancy tuna dish, not because I like tuna (though I should clarify that I do, in fact, love tuna), but because I suspect it's probably one of the most expensive items on the menu. Asami orders a bottle of Cabernet and a rare steak like the fucking creep that he is.

My upper lip curls. "Did you seriously just order a rare steak?" I didn't think people actually ate steak like that in real life. How disgusting.

Asami hands the menus to the waiter and looks at me. When the waiter walks away, he asks lowly, "Does that disturb you?"

The tone of Asami's question catches me off-guard. It may be my imagination, but I swear that question seems oddly loaded. I can't fathom for what reason it would be though. I'm probably just being unreasonably paranoid, probably the effect from the weed I smoked earlier. He's literally asking me if him eating a bloody steak bothers me. There's no hidden meaning to that question.

I grumbled at myself to get a grip and look away from Asami's face. "Why does it even matter?"

"Other people around here might be put off by it," he muses, and for a moment I think he's just going to leave it at that, but then he says, almost fondly, "But you aren't like other people, are you, Akihito?" Cue eerie smirk.

Okay, maybe I'm not being paranoid. I'm positive there's a hidden meaning to his question this time. This conversation has officially veered off into strange territory, and for all I know, this guy could be a serial killer, and that thought is really terrifying. He could just be using this dinner non-date as an excuse to lull me into a false sense of security before he drugs me and locks me in his basement!

What the hell am I thinking? Seriously, I need to stop smoking and watching forensic files. I'm starting to act like a paranoid nutcase that wears tinfoil hats and claims to have been abducted by aliens with all of these fantastical situations running around in my head. This is Asami. He's not a serial killer. Just an arrogant dickhead that pesters me at work and wears fancy suits.

I clear my throat and answer in the most even voice I can manage, "I guess? I mean, I don't really care. I don't have to eat it. It's your steak."

I turn to look at him only to find him leering at me from across the table. My face heats up, and I look away to another table on the other side of the restaurant. I watch as the couple smile at each other, probably exchanging short declarations of love, while they play footsie underneath the table. It's kind of gross, but I wonder if Asami and I seem like a couple on a romantic date to them. I nearly laugh at the absurdity of that thought. Someone would have to be seriously deranged if they thought whatever we were doing right now could be construed as a 'date'.

A laugh from the other side of the table brings my attention back to Asami. "Of course it's _my_ _steak_," he says cryptically then grins, and man, when is our food going to arrive? I'm starving, and I need something to distract me from this uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.

And because our food arriving right then would have been way too convenient, and there's no way the big guy up there will ever let me off easy, I'm forced to settle with staring at the silverware for now. There are three shiny, fancy forks set up on the table to the right of my plate. I pick one up and grimace at it. Oh for fuck's sake, please don't tell me I'm expected to know how to use all of these. As if I don't have enough to worry about at the moment...

"Akihito," Asami says suddenly.

I jump in my seat and drop the fork on the floor. I feel slightly relieved because that narrows down the number of fork choices, but I don't want the waiter to think I'm a clumsy savage, so I kick the fork under the table to hide the evidence before hesitantly looking up to meet Asami's gaze.

He's sitting straight in his seat with eyes that seem to be watching my every move like I'm some specimen he's researching. His lips curl upward slightly and he says, "I'm glad you agreed to join me tonight. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you."

As soon as Asami says those words a wave of dread surges through me. He sounds really scary, and I realize that maybe I should've listened to my gut earlier. He isn't "just Asami". This man in front of me is dangerous. And he says he's been waiting for me a long time?

How is that possible when I met him only just a few days ago? Has he been stalking me? Lurking in the shadows, watching me? That would explain all of those odd moments I could've sworn there was somebody following me home at night but saw no one around. Maybe it was Asami. But holy shit, I've been feeling those sensations for months now. Could I really not notice that he's been following me for that long?

I think I made the wrong choice tonight. I need to leave right now while I still can.

Asami's smile disappears. He seems to notice the change in my disposition and narrows his eyes. "Akihito? Are you feeling alright?"

I flinch when he reaches for my hand and knock over my water glass. I quickly pick it up, but my hand is shaking so much and I can't put it down without it toppling over again. Asami lifts an eyebrow and reaches over the table to clean up the mess. I immediately stand up from my seat. I don't want him anywhere near me.

He stares up at me, clearly waiting for me to start explaining why I'm acting so weird. I run my hand through my hair as I think through my options. This man knows my name, my face, where I work, and possibly knows where I live. I can't piss him off and run away. He might go crazy, and who knows what he's capable of!

Before I can process his movement, Asami is in front of me, pushing down on my shoulders to force me back down into my chair. He rubs his thumbs against my cheeks, and that's when I realize I'm crying. I would be humiliated if I wasn't so terrified.

"Shhh, calm down. It's okay. I'll take good care of you, my Akihito."

I can't stop the choked sob that escapes my lips.


End file.
